


Concussion

by InimitableBiscuit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, British English, Don't copy to another site, Getting Together, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, non-graphic mention of, some may not translate, sorry - Freeform, teammates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 03:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17500433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InimitableBiscuit/pseuds/InimitableBiscuit
Summary: Ol has been pining over the ridiculously hot attacking midfielder on his non-league team for two years.He's crushing so hard that he immediately volunteers to go to hospital with Marcus when he suffers concussion on the pitch and agrees to fetch the man's overnight kit from the hitherto mysterious Fortress of Solitude (maybe not as lonely as he had thought).





	1. Concussed

**Oliver**

Oliver stood in front of the red-bricked victorian semi frowning in confusion “The key is mat. Mat is the key” he muttered to himself as he looked around. Trust semi-conscious Marcus to speak in riddles, there wasn’t any fucking mat in front of the door anyway. As he turned to go, he spotted two doorbells, squinting at the handwritten labels he snorted, one read Mar, the other Mat. Pressing the lower one rewarded him 30 seconds later with a vision. 

The first impression was height and slender muscles; Dark caramel skin topped with a slightly floofy mini afro; strong features, strangely familiar and intense brown eyes. Dear lordy, the man was H.O.T. and currently looking him up and down with a ridiculously sexy quirked eyebrow. The mysterious Mat leant comfortably against the door frame, his arms lightly folded. 

“And what can I do for you handsome?” 

Oliver's brain disengaged at the warm chocolatey voice so similar to Marcus’ though the blatantly flirty edge was new. Shit! There was something he was supposed to be doing? 

“Uh, I, uh need to get into Marcus’ flat to pick up some clothes and things” 

A flash of sympathy? Concern? Passed across the other’s face. 

“Is this okay with Mar?” came the slightly suspicious reply “Who are you?” 

“Oh, sorry, I’m Ollie, Marcus’ teammate. He’s overnighting at hospital for mild concussion. He sent me” Oliver finished somewhat lamely, blushing furiously at how flustered this stranger had made him. The amazing smile was back as the other stepped back slightly and spread out his arms. 

“In that case, welcome!” 

“Thanks” said the keeper returning the smile and stepping past Mat into the neat entrance hall. As he did so, the taller man leant in to bring his mouth to Ol’s ear. 

“I’ll let you in and then maybe you can let me in” came a filthy whisper that tickled the side of his head. Oliver twitched and would forever deny the squeak that _totally_ did not come from him. Yes, the door must be faulty. He pushed a calming breath out then coyly glanced up at Mat. 

“Only if you ask nicely” he said. God! Where had _that_ come from? Flirting with his teammate’s superhot house share. Aaaargh! If only Marcus had ever shown reciprocal feelings to Oliver’s ridiculous and unrequited crush. As it was, he was now at half-mast for a slutty, flirtatious top that he’d only met two minutes ago. _And he wasn’t even drunk_. 

He was broken from his reverie by the sharp bark of a laugh. 

“Oh man” said Mat, grinning “Okay, once we pack a bag for Mar, please, please may I fuck you?” The brown eyes twinkled with a mischief that Oliver couldn’t resist. 

“Sure sounds good, though I better get back to hospital first and drop off the stuff”. Concussed Marcus had been jamming for pyjamas instead of the backless hospital gown he’d been unceremoniously stuffed into by the, frankly, terrifying nurses. The specific orders had been “extra snuggly”. Ol smiled at the memory. 

They got upstairs with Mat crowding him somewhat from behind as the taller man reached forward with the key to let them into the flat. 

“Bedroom?” asked Ol. 

“Ooh, cheeky” smirked the other, pointing the way even as the keeper rolled his eyes at him. 

They wandered into a ridiculously neat room; white painted laundry bin by the door, a large, solid oak chest of drawers next to it and matching bedside tables on either side of the perfectly made double bed which was a surprisingly delicate white painted cast iron. Mat immediately threw himself across the bed, smirking. 

“You gonna come help me mess this up hot stuff?” 

Ol groaned slightly in frustration as he stood in front of the chest of drawers. 

“Second drawer down if memory serves but he’ll also want an escaping hospital outfit so all the drawers except for the bottom one” called the reclining man helpfully. Ol could feel him quietly watching as he efficiently packed a small backpack, laughing slightly at the tartan flannelette pyjamas that he put in. Abruptly he turned and stared at Mat, nibbling a lip. The dark man smirked a little, asking “Yes hotstuff?” 

He launched himself with a rush before he bottled it. 

“Are you all mouth and no trousers or do you actually want me to come back after dropping this stuff off?” 

Mat grinned knowingly, gracefully standing from the bed. 

“Oh I _definitely_ want you back here” the deep voice had Oliver’s knees weakening “In fact I’ll give you a lift and wait outside. Ever ridden pillion before?” 

He shook his head, making Mat smile wider before leaning right in to whisper. 

“It’s so easy, all you have to do is follow my lead and hold on _tight_.” Mat kissed his pulse lightly then pulled back, clearly enjoying the way he swayed into the touch. Ol’s eyelids flickered, by the time he was focused again Mat was back holding out a cherry red helmet and matching biker jacket that he recognised as Marcus’. 

“Shuck these bad boys on and we’ll go rescue Mar from the evils of backless nighties” 

Oliver obeyed, feeling a little like a kid playing dress-up with their parent’s clothes when he discovered that the arms of the jacket almost hid his fingers. After he’d shrugged on the backpack Mat led him by the hand back downstairs before disappearing into his own flat for barely a minute and reappearing with one arm in the sleeve of a matching blue biker jacket and carrying his own helmet. They headed out the front where Mat carefully locked the door then zipped the key into his pocket as he dragged Oliver down to the garage at the end of the row. 

Twenty minutes later they stopped outside the main entrance of the Royal Free. Oliver was immensely grateful that a) the damn jacket was long enough to hide the evidence of just _how_ much he’d enjoyed the ride, and b) that he’d never taken up Marcus’ regular offer of a lift before. He would have died of embarrassment snuggling his stiffy against his straight crush’s butt cheeks. As it was, Mat just winked and told him to meet by the security post for the staff carpark whenever he was finished. 

Oliver had himself under control by the time he’d got back to Wenger Ward (a head injuries, ST obs sign stuck to the door). The same nurse who’d let him out earlier buzzed hi back in. She had a bit of a smirk on her face. 

“He’s been asking for you” she said then returned to her paperwork. She was right, bed 5 held a dopily smiling Marcus. 

“Wood! Woody Wood Wood! You came back!” 

“Of course Marcus” he said, shrugging off the bag and rummaging inside. 

“Got you jamas, a wash kit and escape clothes” he waved each item in front of the woozy patient. 

“That’s why you’re the bestest” slurred Flint. Oliver went pink and shut up. 

It took some time to help Marcus into his pyjamas due to the strange combination of the completely uncoordinated yet incredibly snuggly attacking mid-fielder who kept trying to cuddle him. At last Marcus seemed ready to drift off and Oliver made good his escape with a quick “Get well soon” thrown over his shoulder as he headed toward the nurse’s desk by the exit. He heard Marcus sleepily mutter something before the buzzer sounded and he walked out the door. 

After getting lost several times and having to charm directions out of a stony-faced orderly, he eventually found his way to the secret staff carpark. He immediately spotted Mat leaning against his bike and talking to the burly guard manning the security booth. Ol had only a moment to enjoy the view of lean muscles in trim kevlar before Mat turned to give him a huge grin. 

“I thought you might have wimped out” he said, holding out the red helmet. 

“Not likely” retorted Ol “I just got lost four times trying to escape the building” 

The taller man smirked slightly at this then said challengingly 

“Well hop on then if you’re still up for it” He threw a long leg over the bike and cocked his head expectantly at Oliver. Never one to back down from a challenge (especially one that made him all tingly with excitement), Ol strode forward and grabbed the helmet, sliding onto the bitch seat. 

“Let’s do this thing” he said once he’d clicked the strap and grabbed securely onto Mat’s waist. He was rewarded with a filthy chuckle and the reverberations of the bike starting up.


	2. Disclosure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to become clear.

**Mat**

Mat whistled to himself that morning as he shaved, he’d enjoyed a couple more hook-ups with Ollie over the past month since that serendipitous meeting. He’d never thought he’d be glad for Mar to land himself in hospital again, their teenage years had been _far_ too eventful in that respect in his opinion. Ollie was fun and clearly hung up on someone else which was perfect as it meant he would never push for more than friends-with-benefits, just how Mat liked it. 

He could really do with another night in with the perky Scottish keeper but, annoyingly, Mat had managed to lose his phone a couple of days before. He’d gone out with Mar to celebrate Mar’s return to fitness, they may have _slightly_ overdone it and Mat’s phone had ended up in the bottom of the local canal. Thankfully Mar had pulled him back before he’d followed it in. Bloody wonky paving slabs tripping innocent, not at all drunk people while they check for messages from their booty call. Hang on a tick, Mar and Ollie knew each other from football, Mar must have his number, brilliant! Giving his razor a final rinse, he dropped it back into the pot, winked at his beautiful mush in the mirror and headed upstairs with one towel wrapped around his waist and another for wiping his face. He knocked briefly on the door before opening it (Mar never bothered locking his flat when he was in unless he was ‘entertaining’). 

“Mar, light of my life, womb buddy, second hottest Flint on the planet” 

“What do you want Mat?” came the groggy call from the bedroom door as Marcus shuffled out, rubbing a face still crinkled from sleep. “’S 10 a.m. on a Sunday when I ain’t got nothing on” 

Excellent! Mar was awake meaning Mat was one step closer to happy fun times. 

“Can I have Ollie’s number? I didn’t get it backed up before canal-gate" 

Sleepy Marcus looked confused, it was the wrinkliest face on the planet but kind of adorable if it hadn’t been adorning his twin. He tried to be clearer 

“You know, your teammate Ollie. The one who picked up your bag of stuff for hospital” mat congratulated himself on his remarkable patience with dum-dum sleepy Marcus. 

“What d’you want Wood’s number for?” 

Mat rolled his eyes. 

“No Mar, I want to get hold of _Ollie_ again so I can enjoy his company some more” Okay, so maybe his patience was waning a little, how on earth did Ollie sound anything like Wood? Unless...oh no, he never _had_ bothered finding out Ollie’s last name (or telling him his own). Oh. Fuck. 

He chanced a glance at Captain Dopey who was suddenly looking a lot less tired and gaining a somewhat rage-filled set to his annoyingly buff jaw. Uh-oh, better come clean now right? Marcus wouldn’t murder his best (only) sibling right? Maybe. Oh god he was going to die wearing only a towel. 

“Urm, Mar, I think I need to apologise” 

The glaring alone was going to kill Mat. 

“I didn’t realise that Ollie was the guy you’ve been jonesing on for two years as we, as we haven’t actually exchanged surnames” 

Aw crap, now there was the hell-hound style growling to go with the death glare. Mat decided it was best to just get it over with. 

“Erm, we hooked up the first night you were in hospital and a couple of times since. I’m really sorry, I didn’t know it was _him_.” He closed his eyes tight and coughed, bracing for the punch as he continued 

“I’m 99.9 percent sure now that it must be you he’s completely hung up on” he finished still waiting. Face still miraculously unpunched, he opened one eye, then the other to find his brother looking completely stricken. 

“ _He’s_ hung up on _me_?” came the cracked whisper. Mat nodded. 

“Pretty sure he’s convinced himself you’re straight” 

Marcus had no retort, he just stood there, low slung pyjama bottoms hanging from his hips, mouth slightly open. Abruptly he turned away from Mat. 

“Apology noted, you’re not forgiven yet. Give me time, brother mine. Now fuck off out my flat.” 

Mat made a thankful break for the stairs, closing the door behind him. He suddenly felt the need to be wearing as many items of clothing as possible.


	3. Homer was Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol, the cause of and answer to all of life's problems.
> 
> No Marcus, no it is not.

**Marcus**

Marcus was reeling. Damn Mat and his obnoxiously sociable ways and his stupid sexy martial arts build. He couldn’t even be that angry, it’s not like he ever used Wood’s first name (gotta stay safe with formal separation, can’t let the cat out of the bag), not even when waxing lyrical about his keeping skills or the way Marcus wanted to _keep_ him, drunk Marcus was so fucking cringey. Anyway, he was pretty sure not even drunk Marcus had ever said Ollie, Ol or Oliver, he didn’t even dare whisper it in the shower. Fucking jujitsu champions and their ept flirting – how had Mat managed to get Wood after one (1, one, ONE!) meeting when Marcus had been trying for _two_ years. 

He banged his head against the wall and rested it there while he thought. Where did he go wrong and Mat go right? He let out a long breath before moving off the wall to go find his phone and make himself a Mama’s Kill or Cure tea – extra strong, barely white, one sugar, known to fix all problems through either recovery or death (okay, or as an emetic on your hungover/poisoned stomach). Marcus sat at his kitchen table, carefully blowing on his steaming mug of tar as he stared at his phone. Eventually the tea was finished, he wasn’t dead and he knew he had to stop prevaricating. He thumbed open WhatsApp and clicked on the top conversation, quickly typing out his question. 

Mr: **Howd you get him to notice you?**

The reply was almost instantaneous. 

Mt: _Asked him directly if he wanted a fuck_

Mar snorted. Of course his twin had got results yet again by saying and doing something that anyone else would be slapped for trying. Another message pinged up. 

Mt: _Just nut up and ask him if he’s into you_

ping 

Mt: _Worst case scenario: You become awesome wingmen_

Marcus rolled his eyes before sending his reply. 

Mr: **WCS – he leaves team & NEVER TALKS TO US AGAIN**

Mt: _Bruv, if he thinks I’m fit, what is he thinking abt my twin who has same hobby as him?_

Mr: **You know you’re 5 times fitter than me**

Mt: _10x actually. That’d be great if it was my face he noticed_

Mr: **?? And nice humility there**

Mt: _It’s OUR voice. Also hey, you got the body, I got the face, we both got the voice. Try using yours to flirt properly_

Mr: **Fuck you**

Mt: _love you too bruv_

Mt: _I am sorry_

Mr: **yea I kno. Love you 2**

Mar put his phone back on the table and slowly rubbed his face with both hands. Okay, he could do this... 

Nope, he needed more tea to deal with today. Or rum, where the fuck was the rum? Mat had hidden it when he’d been going out his gourd a couple of weeks ago. No sport and sick leave from work had made him properly loopy. Now, where would the evil twin have put it? He checked every single cupboard in his flat before realising the obvious. Mar ran out of his flat, heedless of the door hitting the wall and took the stairs two at a time. He stormed through Mat’s front door and without even glancing at his, now, thankfully dressed, twin, he strode purposefully into the kitchen and yanked open the booze cupboard. Hah! Jackpot! He gathered up the full bottle of Captain Morgan along with his friends the Silver Fox and the mighty Lord Talisker into his arms, spun around and charged back to his lair. He could feel Mat’s eyes boring into his spine as he retreated. Fuck it, let’s give this ‘alcohol lowers your inhibitions’ theory a try he thought. 

Half a bottle of spiced rum later Marcus was feeling _much_ more relaxed. It vaguely occurred to him that maybe eating something today would have been a good idea. Oh well. He lounged idly on the big sofa and unlocked his phone. He flicked open WhatsApp. Ignoring the ten messages from Mat, he clicked on the 3rd message thread down. 

Mr: **Wood you ther buddy?**

He stared at the screen until his eyes went fuzzy and the screen turned black. Despondent, he slowly drank the rest of the bottle over the next hour before passing out. 

Marcus woke abruptly when his lap buzzed. The crick in his neck from being sat asleep on the sofa was almost as bad as his headache. He stretched, groaning before he looked down. His phone was lit up! Marcus unlocked it eagerly, there were two messages from Wood. Also, how was it after 3 already? 

W: _Sry m8 got trapt @Cors parnts_

W: _Here nw_

Okay, okay. Play it cool. Be open. Marcus wished he hadn’t had quite such a liquid lunch. 

Mr: **Y you been at Posh Pricks parents?**

W: _Tryna wine &dine me in2 stayn flatm8s with PP. Had lotta wine :-/_

Mr: **You movin out?**

Mr: **Y?**

W: _Told em I don wanna live wit a bigot no more_

W: _He thinks fin 2 bring back all the girls but I brin 1 guy ova + I comit crim of Centry_

W: _M dun. Not deeling w it no more_

Mr: **Sounds fair**

Mr: **I gotta question**

Mr: **You mite no like i**

W: _Flinty R U OK m8?_

Mr: **Fine. Bit drukn bt ok**

W: _K me too. Ask away!,_

Mr: **Why d you think I straight?**

A sudden loud noise made Mar yelp and he fumbled the phone across the floor as it rang, the siren like noise piercing his skull. He scrambled for it and stuck it to his ear. It didn’t stop ringing. He pulled it back in front of his face, pressed the green button and put back to the side of his head. 

“Yeah?” he asked cautiously. 

Wood’s panicked voice rang out loudly, Marcus winced slightly as his head throbbed. 

“What the fuck do you mean you’re not straight?! You couldn’t have told me any time in the past two years? You had to do it when I’m banging your house share?” Wood’s voice ended in a bit of a hysterical shriek. 

“Twin” said Marcus. 

“What?!” squeaked Wood, momentarily derailed from his rant. 

“Mat is my twin, fraternal obviously not identical, hence him being hot enough to attract you and me being not” Mar trailed off in a mumble, he could feel the dutch courage draining out of him the longer he stayed on the phone so he bit the bullet. 

“I’ve invited you to go for a ride every week since I met you because I’ve been hopelessly hung up on you since I first saw you play even though you are way out of my league.” Mar stopped again, unsure how to proceed after dropping the big confession. From the strangely stifled gasping at the other end of the phone it sounded like Wood wasn’t sure how to deal with all of this either. 

“Fuck, fuck” Wood gasped, breath audibly shaking. “This is simultaneously the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. I, I gotta go. Can I come over and talk later? I gotta have a think first” 

Marcus thought he knew what that was about so he replied accordingly. 

“Sure. You gotta know before you get all twisted up that me and Mat worked it out this morning, we’ve talked and we’re okay with each other now.” 

He held his breath until he heard Wood expel a sigh of relief. 

“Okay Marcus, catch you later”. 

They both hung up. Marcus rubbed his face with his huge hand, time to find the painkillers but first he flicked open the message thread to Mat. Ignoring the 15 new messages he typed. 

Mr: **I done it**

Mt: _? If you mean stole ALL MY BOOZE then yes, yes you did._

Mr: **That too. I confessed to Wood**

Mr: **he a bit freaked**

Mt: _Probly is_

Mr: **Think I salvaged it**

Mt: _OK good I hope?_

Mr: **Rly hungry. Come order pizza w me**

A minute and a half later Mar heard the thundering of enormous feet coming up the stairs. He opened to let Mat in, he saw that happily, his twin’s arms were full of Icy lemon Fanta, tortilla chips and dip. Sibling status re-engaged. 

“I want anchovy and pineapple” Mat announced as he stepped past Mar into the flat. 

“How did we come from the same uterus?” asked Mar in exasperation, sibling status revoked “Uuurgh” but he moved over to the desktop and clicked on their standard pizza place’s order screen. He called over his shoulder 

“I think this could be the time Gian-Franco sends the men in white coats instead of pizza” 

He ignored Mat’s laughing reply as he focused on putting the right add-ons; 12” veggie supreme with extra pepperoni for him; same size food of the devil for his brother. He added a tub of mango sorbet to the order and clicked send. Gian-Franco was the best, they’d be eating delicious, probably not mob pizza in 40 mins max. 


	4. Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a new beginning.

**Mar**

It was half nine when the doorbell rang. Mat and Mar eyed each other up then nodded in synch, their hands shot out on the count of three. Mar's paper got sliced up by Mat’s scissors so he sighed and crawled out of the sofa. He opened the front door to just in time to catch Wood turning away. 

“Hey” he called, cringing at how rough his voice sounded “Come on up” 

Wood started and turned back. Avoiding eye-contact, he smiled nervously, muttering “Thanks” as he walked past Mar and started up the stairs. Mar locked up then followed slowly, which unfortunately meant that he’d missed half of what Mat had been saying to Ollie. Shit, he bet it was excruciatingly embarrassing stuff about his crush on Wood. 

“-ry, I would never have taken it beyond flirting if I’d realised who you were” he heard Mat saying. No no no no no no no please don’t keep talking prayed Mar as he hid in his own front hall. 

“I don’t regret any of it though” Mat continued. I bet you don’t you little shit thought Mar, silently growling. He heard the sofa creak as his twin stood, the sound goaded him into finally moving into his living room where the sight of Mat and Wood hugging met his eyes. The growl this time was not as quiet as the previous one and made Mat look over Wood’s shoulder right at him. There was a knowing glint in Mat’s eye as he addressed both of them 

“It’s time for you to go for the person you actually want instead of trying out substitutes for size” and with that his twin let go of Wood and headed for his own flat, squeezing Mar’s shoulder on the way past. The door clicked shut.

There was an awkward silence left in Mat's wake that he found himself floundering for a way to fill it. Wood was stood there, pink cheeked and still refusing to look him in the eye. Ah jay-sus, what could he say? Hang on, Hosting 101 – drinks! 

“D’you wanna drink” 

The smaller man quirked a tiny smile “Sure, what ya got?” 

“Uh, OJ, gin, tea, coffee, water, lemon Fanta” reeled off Mar. 

“Huh” said Oliver as he mulled over the surprising selection. He opted for gin and juice which Mar disappeared to fetch from the fridge before returning to fix it up on the coffee table in front of him. The big man returned the bottle and carton to the fridge and made himself a tea. 

“Think I should probably stop for the night” he said with a slightly abashed grin, indicating Ol’s drink with a wave of his mug. 

“How come you both do that?” Asked Wood abruptly. 

“Make my drink in front of me I mean” he explained when Marcus made a confused expression. 

“That is an amazingly personal question but I’m gonna answer it anyway” Mar replied, holding up his free hand to stop Wood from apologising or whatever he had his stupidly pretty mouth open for. 

“Mat’s always been pretty, when we were kids he was _very_ pretty. We used to go drinking together at this dodgy little boozer. We was 16 when Mat got his drink spiked by this creepy guy that he’d been ignoring for the past month. He was maybe 30? Anyway, turns out Mat was not the first person he’d tried this with but he _was_ the first to have someone there to knock the fucker out. I broke two fingers on his face then called the police and ambulance. Pub got closed down, guy got put away, I got in so much trouble with dad but I also got an award from the Met.” 

Mar stopped, he’d never talked that much to anyone apart from Mat. He cast around for the reason for the word vomit, oh yeah, Wood had asked a question. He cleared his throat. 

“So, uh, yeah, that’s...that’s why we do that” he finished lamely. 

“It’s safe if you can see it?” asked Wood, surprisingly astute to Mar’s still drunk mind. He nodded dumbly in lieu of reply. Wood thankfully took pity on his loss for words and steered him into an easy discussion of who was going to make it onto the team next match until they ended up sat in mostly companionable silence for a while, both drinking slowly until Wood set his empty glass down on the coffee table with a clink. 

“You done the right thing. I would’a done the same if it’d been mah sister” 

Mar tried to answer but he was too busy coughing from snorting tea out his nose at Wood’s non-sequiter. 

“Th-thanks” he finally spluttered after his coughing and nose blowing fit subsided. 

He looked over to find Wood’s face much closer than it had been. _Almost kissing distance_ he thought dreamily and then a miracle occurred. Warm, dry lips were pressed against his. It was over in a flash and Oliver, blushing furiously, was disengaging. 

“Sorry” Wood started to say but Marcus made a desperate noise in his throat and launched himself across the space, his hands catching Oliver’s neck and cheek, lips feverishly attacking the man’s mouth. There was a brief moment where Wood seemed too stunned to respond then he hummed and leaned fully into Mar’s hands, allowing Mar to possess him to a terrifying degree. After the initial desperation faded, Marcus eased back with a series of gentle pecks to Ol’s lips. He pressed his forehead to Oliver’s as they both gasped for air, smiling at each other. 

“Wow” breathed Wood. Marcus grinned “Like it?” he asked almost nonchalantly. He felt Oliver try to nod his head against the hands holding him still. 

“Good, there’s plenty more where that came form” 

Ol whined in response, licking his lips to try and encourage Mar’s attention there again. 

”Oh honey, the things I want to do with you” Marcus breathed. 

Oliver clearly swallowed twice, licked his lips again then opened his mouth to say the sweetest phrase Mar had ever heard. 

“Do them” 

A slight note of challenge could be distinguished through the tone of nervous excitement. It caused something dark to rise up in Marcus, something he usually only felt when the bloodlust was high on the pitch. Despite the amount he’d drunk that day, Mar suddenly felt stunningly sober. Ol was, he realised, under the influence of a fairly large amount of alcohol too. There was no _way_ Marcus wanted to do anything that didn’t involve sober consent. He regretfully shook his head, quickly laying one large finger across Ol’s lips to make him listen as the Scot had turned beet red and furious looking. 

“I can’t tonight beautiful” he said “Stay here tonight for kisses and we can discuss consent and things in the morning.” 

Oliver stopped looking so betrayed and nodded against Mar’s finger. Marcus grinned, kissing Ol’s temple before moving his hand down to hold Oliver’s where it lay limply in the man’s lap. Wood squeezed his hand where the fingers were interlinked, a small, wistful smile appearing on his pink face as he looked at them. 

“Ah coulda had this for ages if I’d said yes to a ride” Ol said sadly. Mar was upset to notice tears filling Wood’s eyes. He tugged Oliver’s hand to make him look up. 

“You can have me for ages, starting now” he rumbled, smiling sheepishly in an attempt to wipe _that_ expression off Ol’s face. The look of wonder was 100% worth the personal embarrassment for his own sappiness. 

They kissed chastely until Mar dragged Oliver to the kitchen to drink a large glass of water each before going to bed to fall asleep curled up round each other. 

-Fin-

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know about any editing horrors I have missed, my eyes are going funny.
> 
> Also hope you enjoyed.


End file.
